


lull

by cyaneyed



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, M/M, Sickfic, Slice of Life, Wings, author abuses the semicolon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-21
Updated: 2016-01-21
Packaged: 2018-05-15 08:57:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5779633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cyaneyed/pseuds/cyaneyed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He knows he's been dreaming; frail impressions of flight mixing with bleary images of Eren; rain dripping from his hair, sharp with the scent of outside, clean and fresh.</p><p>The diffused light from the overcast sky makes him queasy, the muggy air stifling and sticky; and he still selfishly wishes that Eren would come, trace his skin gently and make it burn less.</p>
            </blockquote>





	lull

The white noise of rain falling extracts Levi from a syrupy unconsciousness into the stillness of his bedroom. The air is close and nauseatingly heavy; his skin itchy with an overwhelming, dizzying heat. His wings feel dirty, sticking damply to his sweaty back; feathers scattered messily over the sheets as if he were moulting. His fingers scrabble behind him awkwardly to free himself from the hot, cramped cloak they form.

The room is shadowy in a disorienting, timeless kind of way. He lifts his head to see if Eren is lying next to him, but is greeted by the empty twist of white sheets. He drops his head back down, dizzily assessing.

He recalls feeling vaguely corpselike several hours ago; muscles cramped and feverish, bones uncharacteristically heavy. He feels about the same amount of miserable now. His cheeks itch with dried tears and his breath is thready, chest raw and aching.

He knows he's been dreaming; frail impressions of flight mixing with bleary images of Eren; rain dripping from his hair, sharp with the scent of outside, clean and fresh.

The diffused light from the overcast sky makes him queasy, the muggy air stifling and sticky; and he still selfishly wishes that Eren would come, trace his skin gently and make it burn less.

His skin is crawling, recoiling from the web of filth that clings to him. He wants so badly for the phantasm to be real, Eren a solid weight next to him, close enough to press his face into.

A pinched sound slips out of his throat and a few slow seconds of silence drag past. Then another hitched sound follows, and another, and then they're coming in loose, convulsive, pathetic sobs, hands squeezing at his mouth as tears slide hot down his temples.

 

“Levi!”  
His eyes shoot up to find Eren in the doorway, smeared in his vision; and then there's a dip in the mattress and he's beside him, arms enveloping him, pulling him in.  
Bewilderment threads through Levi’s distress, his body shuddering at the sudden flush of cool air. Strong arms cradle him; Eren's careful, familiar touch drawing freezing relief over sensitive skin. 

Levi clings to him, choking down whimpers that refuse to stop. Eren is murmuring lowly to him, soft hand smoothing circles over his skin, gingerly stroking his wings. Levi’s head is spinning, sickening when he closes his eyes, and he presses his face into Eren’s neck, panting. He forces his wings to uncrumple, heavy and sore with steeped shame and unease.  
Eren’s hands rub over his back, beneath his wings, and he tries to catch his breath.

“I just left to get some water.” Levi’s mind filters in the words one by one, stringing them together idly. Eren lays him back against the pillows, careful with his wings, and Levi’s limbs shift restlessly at the open, exposed feeling.

Eren rests a hand on Levi's forehead, cool and gentle.  
“This time is pretty bad, huh...”

Levi knows better than to think Eren's being there is a positive thing; knows its not good for him to be exposed to sickness like this. For the moment, he just stares at him, wanting to convey his worry while his body relaxes in his presence.  
Eren smiles at him, a hand brushing at his hair.  
"I'll be right back, kay, Lev?"

The weight on the bed beside him lets up and the room is suddenly and awfully empty. Levi feels a chill begin to sink into his limbs.

At least with Eren there, he isn't so stupid as to wish for accelerated healing; the younger serving as a convenient reminder of all the shit that brings.  
He coughs twice, shaking the bed. Pain spikes behind his eyes, and he lets his head fall back with a raspy groan to stare blankly at the ceiling. It's hot.

His eyes meander over the uneven creases in the white plaster, jumbled images of Eren's past misfortunes racing through his mind, each chasing the last. A small cut that became infected in minutes, the subsequent unrelenting fever. The grim, chameleon-like display that bruises gave, flus that lasted hours but left Eren drained and exhausted. The end of one finger that was short and puckered because apparently regenerative powers were too much to hope for. Trust Eren to fuck up healing.

Eren interrupts his musing by reentering the room and setting a cup and some medicine on the desk. The mattress shifts, oceanic as Eren climbs in next to him, mumbling as he fixes the stubborn blankets around them.

Levi is shivering, wing joints sore and too hot, protesting their awkward angle. Eren’s skin is warm and close, and Levi's eyes catch on the short fair hairs, the thin, translucent scars that decorate his chest and arms. He trembles, rolling to face him.

Eren reaches a hand over to smooth the hair off his face, and Levi stares at the window fogging up against the rain. The sky is dark beyond the glass panes, inaccessible.

His brain slowly makes the logical connection that if Eren was really dripping water when he came in that means he rode his bike in the rain to get here. And now was lying next to a cesspit of germs. Reckless asshole. 

He dimly registers as his body goes lax; the feeling of Eren's fingers in his hair. The humid air of the room sits thick and uncomfortable in his chest, but next to Eren he begins to fade again.

 

He's roused again some time later, and Eren is asleep, small breaths puffing out into the darkened room.  
Levi studies his face, subdued. The gentle dip of his chin, his faint laugh lines, the slightly crooked line of his nose from healing before it was set.

Levi wonders idly if his broken bones ache on rainy days.  
His hand reaches out before his mind catches up, fingertips slipping through the cold strands of hair that fall limply around his face.  
He's really too reckless.

His arm is heavy, and he drops it back down tiredly.   
Whatever almighty spirit endowed them with their powers had neglected to gift Eren's brain with the same self-preservation policy; his perceptions a little off kilter, a little foolhardy. Levi supposes they make a fair match.

He stares back at the black window, following the dizzying glints of rain in the darkness; wings twitching faintly. They really are lucky to have found each other.   
He fumbles for Eren’s hand under the sheets, grasping it a little tightly.  
Eren hums a small, sleepy noise and Levi’s chest does a swooping feeling like he’s flying, throat tight.

He rubs thumb over the rough back of Eren’s hand, the ridge of his knuckles, soothed by the shape that fits neatly in his.  
He edges his body closer, wings stretching stiffly and rustling around him before his mind drifts, chasing the static of the rain and the faint breaths beside him.

**Author's Note:**

> reviews are always welcome _(:3 」∠)_


End file.
